La Rouyame de L'unifoliee Rouge
by faeriemorgaine
Summary: With the fall of an important, and very close nation, Canada grows stronger. With the new power his mind snaps! The world is now in danger of the crazed Canadian! Arthur travels back in time to prevent the events, but can he handle Italy tagging along?
1. Prologue

_Hi everyone! This is not my first Hetalia fanfiction, but my first PUBLISHED one, so please enjoy._

_The events in this fanfiction revolve around a World War III scenario, therefore countries attack other countries etc. PLEASE do not take offense, the events stated in this fanfiction are just that: FICTION._

_I do not own Hetalia (I sure as heck wish I did)_

_This fanfiction is rated "T" for cursing, themes and events etc. etc._

_If you don't like maleXmale pairings, don't read._

_If you don't like the events mentioned here, don't read._

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The soft glow of the hall light danced through the opening in the door ajar, dripping dim light into it's blackened crevices. Twice he rapped quietly on the door with the back of his hand, announcing his presence.

"It's Matthieu-" He spoke quietly with that silky soft voice of his. Gently he pushed his way through the door, spotting the covers shift as the only other occupant in the room drew further into his pillow, avoiding the repulsive light. "I heard you weren't feeling well from _Maman_- so I brought you some homemade hotcakes. I know you'd prefer I bring you a hamburger or something instead, but maple is good for the soul." He set the dripping delicacy on the nightstand by his sick brother's bed and paused, listening to him trying to smother the sound of his coughing beneath the various sheets and blankets. "Good heavens it's dreary in here- have you opened the windows at all? It smells like you've been in here for weeks! That can't be good for you!"

Sighing heavily to display his irritation at his brother Nation's idiocy, Matthieu sat on the edge of the bed, folding his hands in his lap. "You really are hopeless you know- With the way your economy is going I should have expected you'd get sick! Lack of a proper Health Care system and such has done horrors to your American economy, I can only imagine!" He looked over at the lump of covers that was his brother's coughing form. "Are you listening to me Alfred?" He sighed and shook his blond Canadian head, his stubborn curl bouncing. "I know you aren't asleep- I saw you moving when I came in. Honestly, you really ought to take better care of your country! How are your people supposed to make a good living for themselves if you keep screwing things up?"

In rebuttal, the covers shuddered violently and Matthieu pulled them back in aggravation that he was ignoring him. "Alfred, you need to be more serious and-" But his words caught in his throat as he caught sight of the blood his brother was violently hacking up. He tried to suppress it- tried to cover it up by holding his hand to his mouth, but it was already staining his sweat-drenched pillow and leaking through his fingers. "Alfred!" he cried, suddenly overwhelmed with worry.

_Neither noticed the hand of sickly bones clutching the scythe in the darkness above._

"H-hey Matt." He choked, wiping the blood away with the back of his hand but it smeared. He looked tired and frail, his eyes clouded and hazy.

"Alfred you idiot! Why didn't you tell us you were this sick? The other Nations and I could have helped you!" Matthieu looked desperately hurt in those large bluish eyes that almost seemed violet at times. "Don't you trust me enough? We're twins for God's sake!"

"Don't be stupid." Alfred's voice was strained and sweat dripped down his fever-stricken face and neck. His breath was uneven and hot, adding too the already musty room. "I- I'm the Hero and Hero's don't need help." But his words were smothered in his own disbelief, falsifying his statement even worse.

"You stupid idiot!" raged Matthieu. "Even heroes need help sometimes! What do you think sidekicks are? Not all heroes are loners!" He dashed off then, returning momentarily with a cool wet cloth he gently pressed to his brother's burning forehead.

"Go away Matt- I'm f-fine-" _The Metal Scythe slid dangerously over his middle... _He cut off, suddenly groaning and clutching his stomach, pulling his knees closer in.

"SHUT IT." Matthieu ordered, being forceful for once in his life, determination and worry all over his face. "Rest now! I'll take care of you! You'll see! I have a great Health Care system, and I hardly ever get sick-" He paused, smiling his usual sad smile. "Although I should get Kiku to come and help, his system is even better then mine and he almost NEVER gets sick-"

But Alfred shoved his twin's caring hands away with more force then he should have tried to muster. "Leave me alone Matt-" He ordered. "I'm already-" But he coughed violently again, his head slumping to the pillow in exhaustion.

_The hand of Death slid invisibly over his forehead, the metal scythe glinting..._

"I'm dying Matt- can't you see that?" In his crystal-blue eyes were tears of sorrow, not agony. The sorrow of disappointing those who cared about- of those who loved him cascaded down his face and were absorbed into his doomed-to-be-ruined pillow.

"Al, that isn't true! I can help you I-" But his words caught in his throat with the overpowering emotions. "Just let me help you!" he pleaded. Alfred's tired face cracked a small smile and he turned to face his brother as best he could, which took almost all his remaining energy. "Mattie-" He said quietly. "It's ok, 'cause I'm the..."

_Death placed a clawed, boned hand down upon the young Nation's mouth, withdrawing something small and glowing in a soft gold as it smoked it's way out of his mouth..._

"He-" his eyes glazed over with unfocused sight...

_The tiny sphere was so soft and delicate it could have been a tiny snowflake made of pure gold. 'One land divided by two nations now becomes one through the loss of a life.' mused Death._

"...ro..." And his breathing ceased with a slow, sad sigh. Matthieu's own widened in sheer horror and he clutched his brother's shoulders in desperate disbelief.

"Al? Alfred?" He called, shaking his limp form. Still he remained unresponsive. "Alfred no!" Tears welled and poured down his face as he clutched the one person who had actually remembered him- the one person who knew who he was and didn't act as if he weren't there. "No- no, no, no! It's not fair!" He sobbed in the darkness, feeling his heart break.

_What is it like to lose a friend?_

_What is it like to lose a twin?_

_More desperate a sorrow than anything._

_It's like losing a part of your soul within._

_

* * *

_

_On January 1st, 2011, America as a nation, died; it's economy and system coming to a complete halt as Stock Markets crashed and it's people were thrown into a full blown panic and disarray. With military scattered, and resources dispersed scarcely, the people, desperate for any form of economic help, neither protested, nor resisted when Canadian armies and government officials invaded and seized control of the panicked regions._

_Finding the states in desperate need of organizing, the Canadian government declared the remaining North American land for themselves, calling their new found territories the "United Provinces of Canada"._

_With the people's panic, it was not difficult for Canadian armies to station themselves in each of the United Provinces, and begin setting up the new ground rules the people would have to follow to survive the economic stress. Wealth was forcefully stolen from the wealthy and jobs otherwise outsourced were rapidly cut off, forcing the people to hire within their provinces. Military, which was dispersed throughout the world, (and in particular places of the world) were immediately withdrawn back into the country, and ordered to assist in the 'cleanup' of the United Provinces problems. With the immediate withdrawal of the military, the remaining people were not allowed to leave the country on the grounds that if people vacationed outside the United Provinces , the wealth would still be leaving the country. Forcing the airlines to refuse the people to travel, they sent out military officials out to round up the remaining stragglers, until anyone living in America before it died, was forced back._

_And though the people questioned their right to travel anywhere, they did not make much of a say about it, finding the Canadians' methods were slowly working._

_Within the span of eleven months, Canadian Officials were able to finally declare the United Provinces officially 'restored', and it's people were happily recovering._

_But, though the Canadian government were pleased with their new found land, it was becoming difficult for them to keep control of the people. With their recovery, there came talk of rebellion back into the nation they once were, free of Canadian rule. The people began to question their rights to travel and their rights to leave the country._

_However Canada itself, was becoming a depressed Nation, as their lands were taxed to help pay for damages to the United Provinces' damages. Somehow they were going to have to turn their vile behavior around or Canada would soon end up as America had: In need of desperate assistance._

_Finding their rebellious nature only natural considering the circumstances Canadian Officials declared that until they could officially say that both Canada and the United Provinces of Canada were both in equally grand positions, they would not open the airlines to the United Provinces._

_Their reasoning was deemed folly by various other nations, but through persuasion and threats that their economy was failing again (by their own doings obviously) and through the fear that they were in a position to be attacked by other nations at any time, the UPC's (United Province Canadians) agreed to Canada's terms, not only disallowing airline travel, but also allowing the Canadian Government to install Military officers in each province to enforce their laws..._

_

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_

WOW. AWESOME. I actually posted it! Here goes nothing! Please rate and review if you like it! ^_^

_Expected pairings to follow: _

_ChiXRus, LietXPol, FrUK, and maybe more._

_GOD it is hard to writye as if reading a history textbook! I hope you appreciate the effort that took! TT_TT  
_


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 2

_OK, Hetalia does not belong to me. Obviously this is a fanfiction, emphasis on FICTION, therefore the events stated here have NOT happened and probably WON'T happen. _

_If you can't handle maleXmale pairings, don't read. _

_If you can't handle fake historical events that do not happen but happen in the fiction stated here: don't read._

_Thank you. ^_^_

* * *

He stood facing the door with irritation plastered to his face. He had been standing there for ten minutes and still his son refused to answer the door. "Matthieu, open up! I know you are in there, I can see your lights are on! Your mail is stacked yay high and I am sick of waiting for you to come and open the door like a gentleman!" He tapped his foot again and sighed heavily, turning the silver door handle. "I heard your doorbell go off and Francis told me he'd seen you in the kitchen not but ten minutes ago through the window! Now I really must insist that you open this door or I shall come in without such pleasantries!"

The Englishman heaved open the door when no reply or footsteps came and to his disapproval, a cloud of dust followed it. Coughing slightly and blowing the foul dust aside, he closed the door behind him, straightened his tie and walked down the hall, aiming for the door to Matthieu's bedroom, which stood slightly ajar; light drifting through it's crack.

"Honestly, the bloody git's been busy lately, I can see that but can't he take the time to dust a little?" He slid his finger over a table by the wall, where roses wilted in desperate need of attention and water. An inch thick, and still drifting through the air, he tsk-tsked and wiped his finger off with his handkerchief. "Matthieu you are being very irresponsible!" he called. "Letting your plants die like this-" He stopped at the door and listened. No sounds could be heard within. "Matthieu, I am coming in, for I can see you lack proper social skills this evening." And he pushed the door open, scanning the room for his only remaining son.

Matthieu was sitting with his back to his father, facing the wall, his knees pulled to his chest, and his bear Kumajirou, patting his leg.

"Matthieu? Are you all right?" He asked.

"Arthur?" He asked, turning his head slightly, his wavy blond hair shifting slightly. "Yes. Never better. Please go away." He said passively; emotionless.

But Arthur simply shifted his weight to one foot, crossing his arms in skepticism. "You seem a bit... well, to put it most bluntly, you seem almost depressed Matthieu. That being said, I shall not leave! For God's sake man, your plants are dying and there is dust a mile thick shrouding everything!" He walked closer to his son and placed a hand on his shoulder, to which Matthieu recoiled from the touch.

"I don't need your sympathy Papa." He said, pushing his hand away. "I've just been busy lately."

"Indeed, cleaning up your brother's mess must be frightfully dreadful- If the task is too daunting, why not ask for help? Is that not what Alfred's problem was?"

"Brilliant deduction eh, but I don't need your help." he snapped almost too quickly. He turned on Arthur then, glaring what appeared to be daggers at him. He was obviously tired, for dark circles had traced his eyes behind his glasses.

"Matthieu-" Arthur began, worriedly. It was unlike the Canadian to act this way- he was usually so sweet, polite and quiet! It was pretty much the main reason people didn't often take notice to him. "You need a break! Clearly the loss of your brother is still with you, it is still with all of us! Please, you must take a rest for a moment and let Francis and I lend you a hand! I am most positive that frog wishes to help you as much as I do! Let your parents assist, it is what parents are for after all!"

"You think _Maman _will help? Yes, he was here a bit ago as well. I have already told you as I have told him. I do not need your help. Quit asking or I'll have to drop _'papa'_ and start calling you _'hoser'._" And he stood and walked over to the door to his bedroom, opening it. "Shall I show you the door then?" he asked.

Arthur sighed and shook hi head, "No need for that Matthieu, I know the way." And he nodded curtly and walked past him. "I need to see Francis. We must talk sense into Matthieu. I know he is stressed, but it cannot be good for his health!" And he departed down the street hurriedly, eager to seek out his partner in crime; his nagging conscience: his _wife._

_

* * *

_

Matthieu's back was pressed to the opposing side of the front door, a hand to his head. Chuckling a bit, he smiled sorrowfully. "They don't really care do they Kuma?" He asked in a melancholy way, and Kumajirou frowned with worry. "They never truly did. It's all an appearance thing really- what they really want is Alfred's land. But they can't have it."

_Oh sad and little butterfly,_

_Why do you sit as such and cry?_

He walked past his bedroom, heading for the door next to it which always stayed locked. Withdrawing the necklace he kept the key dangling on (he always kept it on his person) he unlocked the door. "Because they think by helping me I'll be willing to give it up." He frowned, tears coming back. "But land or no land, Alfred is still mine! He is my twin! and they can't have him!"

_"I lost my favourite flower today_

_With winter cold it died away!"_

He unlocked the door, opening it to a dark room, closing and locking it behind him. The room bore no windows but light from monitors softly flared to life with it's inferred motion sensors. "Haha- They'll never be allowed to have you, now will they?

_And with a sad and little sigh_

_The butterfly, he said "Goodbye."_

In the centre of the dark room lit only by monitors sat positioned a 'tank' where the lifeless blond form of Alfred stood frozen in harsh, glass-clear ice, perpetually preserved. His face held an expressionless sleep, appearing to all the world as a three dimensional painting, if nothing else. Matthieu gently and caressingly rested his palm on the glass, the heat sending condensation just above it. "They aren't worthy to have your land Alfred. They never were, after all- I was the one who came to help, not them. Never them." And he grinned again.

_But then had popped in his mind;_

_A wondrous thought to pass his time!_

It was such a strange grin. A thin grin; a sad grin. An insanely crooked grin which curved up his lips like some twisted puppet, who's artist slipped when painting their lines.

_"Let's bring more flowers all together_

_And make a garden bright and better!"_

"I'm having a thought Kumajirou." the Canadian said quite suddenly. The small bear that never left his side looked startled that the blond nation had remembered his name; something that rarely (if ever) happened. "Alfred was always thinking big wasn't he? Perhaps we should as well, _non_? We should bring everyone together so that they can all share in his dreams of grandeur! Oh yes... but who to ask first?"

_"I'll bring my other friends in hand_

_And build a pretty place so grand!"_

He slid his fingers over the icy glass, pressing his forehead to it in deep thought. "Oh, I know just the man! I'm sure he'd simply love to assist us- he's always asking the same of everyone else anyways, what choice would the second largest country have?" His grin suddenly spread further, violet-blue eyes widening at the very prospect of the thought. "Oh that's right isn't it? I am so much bigger now- so much bigger then he! Perhaps I can be stronger too!" He cackled aloud, throwing his head back. "Yes Alfred- I'll do it! Oh how happy they will all be to join in our cause!"

_"I'll plant their seeds with love not dread!_

_My heart will lie inside that bed!"_

He whirled around, his face losing the smile in an instant, a cold expression taking it's place. "Come Kumajirou- we have work to do." And he closed the dark room behind him, locking it tight.

_"And lonely I'll no longer be_

_A bunch of friends surrounding me!"_

"I need to prepare if I'm going to pay him a visit." He said and Kumajirou frowned, trailing after and tugging on his maple leaf jacket. "Hmm?" Matthieu looked down through his glasses and Kumajirou shivered slightly. Those eyes- sad, sad eyes were no longer familiar! So strange and foreign, as if he were looking at someone else. "Let it rest Kumajirou." Matthieu ordered sweetly, bending down to lift up the bear. "I'll make sure you get whatever you like when our dream is realized all right?" And he patted the bear gently on the head.

_Oh what a party it'll be!_

_A sight for all **eternity**!_

Kumajirou closed his eyes and snuggled into his grasp, remembering this kind of gentle treatment well. He had not held him like this for a while, too enveloped in his sadness. But Matthieu was particularly fond of him and whatever madness was breaking inside that brain of his, at least the kindness towards him would not falter.

"I'll bet you'd like something to eat-" Matthieu continued, heading towards the kitchen. "I know you like fish, but... have you ever had anything else?" He looked kindly down at the bear as he sat him on the counter. "I know normal bears like to eat more then just fish-" He smiled sweetly, but something sparked in his eyes that almost frightened Kumajirou.

He walked hurriedly out of the room and after a moment of temporary shuffling clanging noises, he returned with a worn, bandage wrapped rifle and his jacket. "Come on! Let's go! I'll teach you something _interesting_." He grabbed the small bear and headed out the door where fresh snow was beginning to settle on the ice below.

The darkness of night was taking the land, and though Kumajirou could see well, he wondered how the Canadian was able to find his way through the blizzard that was rapidly taking hold of all visibility.

"Listen up eh- tonight is going to be most interesting. Trust me, you are going to _like_ the result."

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Chapter 1 completed! Review please if you like it!


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